


No Vacancy

by Gort



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alien Viruses are such a drag, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Feels, F/M, Guns, Minor Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Minor Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soulmates, Zombie Deaths, machetes, the lighthouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort
Summary: Post Season 5 Zombie AU. One cryptic message from Hunter, a zombie apocalypse, and 5000 miles later, Bobbi finally finds her way home.Beta'd (and encouraged) by Sunalso!





	1. Rivers End

**Author's Note:**

> For @huntxngbxrd who asked for a soulmate story. Um. I tried.

Bobbi woke up with a start and held her breath, listening intently. Her fingers crept across the concrete under her until they connected with the handle of her machete.

Nothing.

She inhaled and then let it out slowly, still listening with half an ear as she sat up, wondering what time it was. It felt like morning, but she’d long ago given up trying to sleep on a regular schedule. An hour or two here and there was better than none at all.

Being outside after the sun went down was tantamount to suicide nowadays, but shelter didn’t necessarily mean safety, as she’d learned over the last few months.

Slowly, she loosened her grip on the machete and relaxed a little. Whatever it was that’d woken her, it wasn’t one of _them_. Those things were the exact opposite of quiet, which was semi-helpful if almost always terrifying when you were caught unawares.

One more day, she told herself. She just had to get through one more day, and then she’d be that much closer to finding everyone. Though at this point the promise had lost almost all meaning. The last message that’d gotten through, as the entire world had literally begun to go mad, was a text from Lance. _Rivers End_ was all it said, but it meant he’d been alive. And she had to believe that bastard was too stubborn to die.

God, she missed him.

It had taken her two days of pouring over the maps, barricaded in the little apartment she’d expected to share once Hunter had gotten over his latest little snit and tracked her down, to realize he might not have been referring to an actual river. A few hours more had her choices narrowed down to a suburb just north of Denver, or a tiny town so close to the border it was nearly in Canada.

The first car she’d stolen had only gotten her to the edge of the city, inching along in traffic with a throng of panicked humanity. None of them had realized yet there was no escape, not from whatever it was that’d been unleashed.

Fucking aliens. Weren’t there planets besides earth to terrorize?

She’d taken to hijacking motorbikes after that first day, ditching anything she couldn’t carry on her back. It was almost a month before she saw her first hoard, when she’d ventured into the outskirts of Panama City in search of supplies. The horror of watching _them_ take a full-grown man apart in a matter of seconds wasn’t something she was likely to forget anytime soon. The eyes were the worst, the flat, dead stare of an empty vessel fixated on one thing: consume.

She refused to think of them as human. Whatever the virus did to them, the bodies that were left behind weren’t anything but husks. Her batons weren’t as effective a deterrent on a thing that couldn’t feel pain, but she’d quickly discovered that a pair of machetes could take a head off quietly and cleanly.

Every day had brought her closer to the town she’d set out to find, and now that she was finally here a stone had seemingly lodged itself in her chest, the weight of her fear vying with the last wisps of hope she was clinging to by her fingernails.

She’d seen plenty of people alive, too, she’d assured herself in the dead of night when she was holed up in the dark listening for the telltale sound of shuffling feet. People who’d survived the initial outbreak, and then the strange, multicolored mist that’d drizzled out of the sky for almost two weeks straight. She’d half expected her skin to be stained permanently, but the colors had faded after a few days and then a more normal rain had washed away the remnants.

A faint, distant noise like the scrape of a shoe put her back on high alert, and Bobbi groped for her other machete, feeling better with her hands full of steel and sharp edges. It didn’t sound like one of _them_ , but some of the humans that’d survived weren’t much better, so better safe than sorry.

Quietly, she stood and crept across the room, balancing on the balls of her feet. Another scrape, barely discernable, told her that whoever or whatever it was, it was right outside the door of her chosen hidey hole.

Damn it, she knew she shouldn’t have crashed in the same place twice in a row.

Rolling her shoulders, she stood to one side as the door handle slowly began to turn. Her heartbeat was steady in her chest and her breathing low and even. Whatever was on the other side of the door was definitely human. _They_ never bothered with things like doorknobs.

She held one blade at eye level and tucked the other behind her leg as a fun surprise for anyone who thought they could disarm her as the door creaked open and sunlight spilled into her room.  

No one appeared, but Bobbi didn’t move.

A few seconds ticked by, and then the muzzle of a gun held by a long, lean arm breached the doorway, sweeping from side to side. This wasn’t a mere civilian, then. Bobbi waited until she saw shoulder, sliding her machete out so it was resting against the person’s throat.

“Sorry,” she said nonchalantly. “No vacancy.”

They let out a long-suffering sigh that she would recognize anywhere.

“Hunter?” Bobbi’s grip on her machete wavered and she took a step away from the wall so she could see his face. “Lance?” she whispered.

He seemed as shocked as she was. “Bob? What the…fucking hell.” He pushed her machete away from his neck before nearly crushing her with a hug. “Where have you been?”

Bobbi clutched her machetes tightly, her arms wrapped around his waist, as an almost dizzying euphoria swept over her. “You’re alive,” she said weakly. “Oh, thank god.”

The butt of Hunter’s gun was digging into her back, but she didn’t really care because he was here, he was real, and it was the first time in months that she’d felt even a sliver of relief. Hunter kissed her ear, then her jaw, and she managed to turn her head just enough to allow him access to her mouth. A shudder ran through her the moment their lips met, and she felt him stagger slightly, but she was much too busy reacquainting herself with his taste to tease him about not being able to handle her.

“Christ,” he gasped. “I thought…jesus, Bob, you couldn’t send a note?”

Bobbi let out a laugh that teetered on the edge of hysterical as she rested her head against his shoulder and breathed him in. “And what, tape it to one of those thing’s foreheads and hope it staggered in your direction?”

“I missed you,” he murmured.

He curled a hand into her hair and tugged gently until she raised her head. Tears pressed at the backs of her eyes. “I- ” Whatever she was about to say flew right out the window the moment she caught sight of Hunter’s face. His cheek was magenta, and his lips bright yellow, fading to green at the edges. There was a blue streak across his chin and part of his ear was orange.

“What the hell?” she said, jerking out of his embrace.

He just stared at her, his expression one of awe. “Bob,” he said, eyes wide. He rubbed a thumb across her lower lip and it came away purple.

She touched her face in confusion. “Please tell me I haven’t gone all Chuckles the Clown like you.”

“Afraid so,” Hunter said, sounding more pleased than concerned. “You know what that means?”

“How the hell would I know? You do?” Bobbi said incredulously.

“Yeah, actually. Started happening a couple months ago, after that weird storm, you remember?” Hunter trailed a finger along her jawline, his eyes following along, and Bobbi dropped one machete to reach out and touch the hollow of his throat. It immediately turned neon green.

“What, we’re hypercolor now?” Bobbi asked. She pressed two fingers against the back of her own hand, frowning when nothing happened.

“It’s a soulmate bond.”

Bobbi’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. “Excuse me?”

Hunter shrugged. “Hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t name the damn thing. It’s just…this is much cooler than what Fitz and Simmons have shown us.” He stroked a finger down her throat and slipped it under the neckline of her t-shirt, tugging it down slightly. “You think it works everywhere?” His eyes lit up and he dropped his hand to his belt buckle. “What color do you think my…”

“Hunter,” Bobbi grasped his hand to stop him, mesmerized for a moment as ripples of sky blue fanned out from where she touched him. “The others are here?”

“Yeah, almost everyone. There’s a whole base set up under the town. I'll catch you up.” Hunter scrawled his initials on the inside of her forearm before looking up with a grin. “This is going to be fun.”

Bobbi drank in the sight of his smiling face and leaned forward to kiss him again, turning his lips from fading yellow to bright pink. “I missed you, you idiot.”

 

 

 

 


	2. The Armory

Bobbi’s eyes popped open and she sat up, trying to catch her breath. She reached out, searching for her machete and finding only empty mattress.

Wait. Mattress?

She forced herself to be still, her heart pounding in her ears, as she slowly remembered where she was. She’d made it to Rivers End. She’d found Hunter and the others. They were safe here, deep underground.  

The relief that usually settled into her bones refused to come. Instead, there was a tightness in her chest that hovered just on the edge of painful. Pressing a hand to her sternum, Bobbi groped around in the bed next to her, searching for Lance, only to find more empty mattress.

What the hell?

He’d barely given her space to breathe since she’d arrived, not that she’d minded. After months of being on her own, of fighting to find her way back home, of seeing so many people taken by  _them_ , every moment they were together seemed like a gift. It was strange how the one person she would have sworn drove her crazier than any other on the planet was also the only person she couldn’t seem to live without.

Well, strange to her, maybe. No one else seemed very surprised. 

Hunter had taken it completely in stride and, while she had to admit she’d never needed much of an excuse to touch him, the play of colors over his skin had made her aware of just how often she reached for him. She’d always accused him of being the demanding, tactile one, but this whole soul-bond deal had exposed that lie.

She fumbled for the bedside lamp, turning it on so she could get dressed. Frowning, Bobbi pushed the blankets off and found no stray splashes of color, not even on her hip, where Hunter liked to rest his arm, or her calves, from him tucking a leg between them. Her anxiety kicked up a notch. He’d been gone a while.

The tenseness in her chest pulled strangely, like this new emotion was at odds with it, and Bobbi almost dropped the shirt Hunter had left on the floor last night before she managed to pull it over her head.

She settled a hand over her heart and took a deep breath to center herself, letting her mind go quiet and calm. The knot pulsed, growing tighter.

Oh, fuck.

That wasn’t her, it was Lance.

She was going to have a seriously long talk with Jemma about this damn bond once she figured out what the hell was wrong with Hunter.

Bobbi hopped into a pair of discarded pajama bottoms and her battered sneakers on her way toward the door, praying it really was as early as it felt and everyone else was still asleep. She had no idea where to even begin looking, let alone what to do when she found him. Hopefully, it would involve something nice and straightforward like punching someone.

Or, she discovered a few moments later as she started in one direction only to have the pain in her chest tug her the opposite way, maybe finding him was going to be the easy part.

Four long, dark corridors and one elevator ride later, she found herself outside an unfamiliar door. She turned the doorknob slowly, relieved to find it unlocked, and quietly slipped inside, squinting against the bright overhead lights.

Blinking, Bobbi’s eyes widened as she took in the arsenal around her. Crates with warnings labels slapped all over them were stacked neatly in the corner, nearly to the ceiling, and long rows of shelves held sleek black cases of guns piled next to boxes of ammunition and spare parts. The entire room smelled like metal shavings and the familiar, earthy scent of gun oil. In the middle of the organized chaos was a long table, with Hunter perched on a stool in front of it.

He must have heard her come in, but he didn’t look up from his task, methodically scrubbing the disassembled handgun he was holding. Three rifles, their stocks spotless, lay to his left, and a haphazard collection of springs, slides, and barrels was in front of him, along with a multitude of cleaning supplies.

The lack of acknowledgment stung, but the pressure in her chest eased slightly, which she took as a positive sign. Bobbi opened her mouth to tease him about keeping the weapons cleaner than their room when she noticed the rigid set of his shoulders and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

Now wasn’t the time for a joke.

Crossing the room, Bobbi made sure to stay in his line of sight the whole time, her footsteps deliberately heavier than usual, before she settled on a stool next to him. His eyes flicked in her direction, but he didn’t say a word. She tucked her hands between her knees to keep from reaching for him as he carefully cleaned the excess oil from the gun he was holding and began to put it back together.

Bobbi tipped toward him, unable to stand it any longer, and gently knocked their shoulders together. “Hey,” she said softly.

Hunter racked the gun a few times to make sure it was cycling properly before setting it next to the rifles. “Hey,” he finally replied, picking up a rag and another slide.

Bobbi bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. “Need some help?”

“If you’d like. Wanted to make sure things were ready for tomorrow.”

Picking up a rag of her own, Bobbi selected a barrel and began to wipe it down, settling her shoulder more firmly against Hunter’s as he leaned in her direction. They were supposed to go topside in the morning, just a routine patrol through town to clear out any of  _them_  that might be around. The knot of emotions in her chest was starting to make a little more sense now. It wasn’t the first time in her life she’d woken up to find Hunter missing, though usually by the time he showed up again he was drunk off his ass and in no shape to tell her where he’d been.

Honestly, more often than not, she hadn’t really wanted to ask.

It wasn’t like she didn’t get it. She woke up in a cold sweat sometimes too, feeling like her heart was going to pound out of her chest while the latest nightmare receded. It was never any use trying to go back to sleep afterward. When Hunter wasn’t around, she would go for a run or find a punching bag to wear herself out again. When he was around, she would try to coax him into wearing her out a different way while deflecting all his well-meaning questions.

More than once, they’d had a spectacular fight instead. That was how Bobbi had ended up in Rio in the first place.

Dread pooled in her stomach. Running away wasn’t an option, not with  _them_  lurking up above and Hunter’s anxious, seething mass of anger and pain squirming behind her heart. This wasn’t something they could avoid any more, which meant they were going to have to talk even though Bobbi absolutely sucked at talking.

Hunter’s hands slowed. “Sorry,” Bobbi whispered, concentrating on the task in front of her. She inhaled through her nose and let it out slowly, trying to clear her head again. If this was a two-way street, he didn’t need her insecurities getting all tangled up with what he was feeling right now. A blade caught her eye, set between two of the rifles he’d already taken care of. “Is that my machete?”

“Needed sharpening,” Hunter grumbled. “Can’t go out there...” His voice trailed off.

Unprepared, she finished silently. Except the world was almost unrecognizable now, and there were so many things they weren’t prepared for. Hunter held out a hand and she gave him the barrel, watching him swiftly reassemble the gun, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the piece of the world they had left.

He set the weapon aside and she slipped her hand into his, palm to palm, before he could begin again. Orange flared across his fingertips, contrasting against the pale blue that covered hers. “We’re safe, Lance,” she said. “Let’s leave the rest for the morning.”

She felt him relax, which was a good sign. The knot in her chest was still too tight, but there was something else in there, weaving itself around the pain.

“I let you go,” he said. “You shouldn’t have been alone.”

Bobbi squeezed his hand, watching green creep down his wrist. “The others needed you.” It was true, if painful. She might not have needed him, but she’d hated that he wasn’t there.

“But what if you’d…” he stopped, and she could feel the tangle of his emotions inside of her trying to sort themselves out.

“I didn’t,” she said firmly. “We’re both fine.” Well, fine might be kind of an overstatement, but they were both alive, that was what mattered. They had time to figure out the rest. She wrapped her other hand around the back of his, holding it tight as red bloomed between them. “I’m here.”

He let out a shuddering breath and rubbed his sternum with his free hand, frowning. “Christ, this is weird.”

She guessed that answered her question of whether he could feel her, too. “Tell me about it.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s a lot to get used to.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Bobbi stood, tugging him up and leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. She paused to watch them turn a deep plum color as the tense coil in her chest slowly smoothed out into something warmer and richer. “Come back to bed.”

“I think you might be stuck with me for good this time,” he said as they navigated the dark corridors back to their room.

“Did you forget the part where we got married once?”

Hunter shrugged and lifted their linked hands while turquoise wound around their fingers. “This is different, Bob.”

“I know.” 

“Really different.”

“Lance.”

“What?” he asked, rubbing his chest.

Bobbi stopped in the corridor and turned to face him, meeting his gaze steadily as she drank him in. She’d almost lost hope that she’d ever see him again and that wasn’t something she ever wanted to repeat. “Feel that?”

“Yeah?” he said cautiously.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She trailed her fingers up his arms, leaving streaks of gold. The spot in her chest was pulsing in time with her heart, spreading contentment through her limbs. “You’re stuck with me, too.”


	3. Colorado

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RATING CHANGE-Please take note of the rating change and a couple of added tags! The change is for violence and mild sexual content, no major gore or anything. 
> 
> Apparently, I can't shut up about zombie apocalypse soulmates so here's a little bit more.

“Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you,” Jemma said, slipping through the door of the armory.

Bobbi swiveled on her stool from where she was watching Hunter clean the last of the guns, her chin propped on her hand and the strange but pleasant sensation of contentment winding through her chest. She wasn’t quite sure if that was her or Lance, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. They’d managed to get a little more sleep, and she’d woken up with him draped over her like the world’s warmest blanket (with sharp elbows). That it felt more soothing than smothering should have scared the hell out of her, but there were bigger things to worry about right now.

Jemma set a small box on the table with a heavy thunk and gave Bobbi a smile. “Wanted to make sure you had enough of these.”

Opening a box flap, Bobbi peered inside to find neat rows of ammunition. “I’ll stick to my machetes, thanks. Shooting doesn’t faze them much.”

Hunter snorted and picked up a magazine, digging through the box Jemma had brought until he found the right caliber to load it with. “Taking a man’s head off always has been one of your specialties.” A tendril of affection wound around her heart and Bobbi’s sarcastic retort died in her throat. Damn. It had been a lot easier to deflect when Hunter’s feelings hadn’t been broadcast so directly.

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “Yes, well, that might be necessary now, but Fitz and I have been working on finding a more efficient way to stop them.”

Bobbi picked up a rifle round and spun it between her fingers. “These can kill them?”

“Not quite.” Jemma sounded a little disappointed. “But they’ll be incapacitated long enough for you to finish them off. A bit like an ICER. It’ll keep your contact with them to a minimum. Remember, in order to infect others they have to-”

“Bite them, yeah, I’m aware,” Bobbi said absently.

“Oh, of course, I’m sure you must have seen…” Jemma trailed off.

Bobbi felt more than saw Hunter’s concern, laced with curiosity. She’d told him the abbreviated version of her trip up from Rio but hadn’t gone into details. It had been hard enough to live through once, she didn’t really want to rehash it.

“These are great, Jem, thanks,” Hunter said, sliding a loaded pistol across the table to Bobbi. Even when he hadn’t been able to feel her emotions, he’d always been too damn good at picking up on them. Some spy she was. Or had been, she supposed. She hadn’t asked Mack directly, but without a functioning government, there certainly couldn’t be a SHIELD.

Jemma beamed at them. “Of course.”

She was nearly out the door before Bobbi worked up the nerve to ask, getting up from the stool and following Jemma into the hall. “Hey, Jemma?”

“Yes?” Jemma spun around.

Rocking back on her heels, Bobbi crossed her arms and waited until she heard the click of the door closing behind her before speaking again. “You know the whole…bond thing?”

Jemma furrowed her brow. “The soulmate bond? Yes, of course.”

“Do you and Fitz, um, feel things? I mean, not physically, but…I’m not explaining this well.”

“Oh.” Jemma’s expression softened. “You two really are a good match, aren’t you?” She touched the spot over her own heart.

“You have it too,” Bobbi said, relieved.

Nodding, Jemma reached out and put a reassuring hand on Bobbi’s arm. “Give it a few days, you’ll get used to it. It’ll become more of a touchstone than some all-consuming thing.”

“This is completely insane,” Bobbi blurted out. “All crazy colors and shared feelings aside. I mean, soulmates?”

“I know. I told Fitz the name was a bit melodramatic, but everyone was already using it.” Jemma gave her a wry smile. “The odds of finding the one person you’re supposedly meant to be with out of billions are astronomical, and that’s only if you believe the universe has some stake in pairing us up in the first place, which seems highly unlikely.”

Bobbi blinked at her, surprised. “But you and Fitz-”

“We’re very compatible, yes, but I like to think that I chose him, rather than some cosmic fate.” She patted Bobbi’s arm. “Statistically, even the few bonds we’ve seen so far should be impossible with such a small sample to draw from, so there must be some free will involved in the process.”

Bobbi took a breath, trying to settle the nervousness that’d been buzzing under her skin since she’d woken up this morning. Most of it was her, but Hunter was also on edge about this new thing between them. “Makes sense.”

“As much as anything does nowadays,” Jemma said. “I’ll see you when you get back. Be safe.”

***

The town was quiet, aside from a few birds and the occasional rustling of something in the undergrowth. Hunter was poking through what was left of a pharmacy and sticking the useful items in a backpack while Bobbi kept watch just inside the shattered front doors.

It was amazing how quickly the sidewalk had given in to the encroaching wilderness, with weeds shooting up between the cracks and bushes crowding into the space once reserved for pedestrians. If she didn’t know better, Bobbi would call it peaceful.  

The sun was brighter than she remembered after a few days underground, and Bobbi idly spun a nearby rack of dusty sunglasses, looking for a pair that she might actually wear. The spot in her chest that was Hunter thrummed quietly, with just an underlying caution flavoring the overall contentment. It was nice to know all he really needed at the end of the world was a mission—and her. She glanced in his direction and he looked up and smiled like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Damn bond.

Bobbi absently rubbed the spot over her chest and spun the rack again, mostly to give herself something to do. She couldn’t stop mulling over what Jemma had said about the bond being more of a choice thing than a fate thing. As much as Bobbi would like the weird color show and accidental oversharing to be something entirely out of her hands, Jemma was right, the statistics were pretty stacked against it.

Which meant she’d chosen him. Chosen Lance, out of all the people she’d ever known, to share this with. Sure, they’d been married before, but even that hadn’t felt quite so…permanent. No amount of paperwork or annoying lawyers were going to get her out of projecting all the things she’d worked pretty damn hard to hide her whole life.

Abandoning the sunglasses—most of them were awful anyway—she grasped her machetes a little tighter, spinning them like she used to do with her batons, and tried to tamp down on her anxiety. Hunter shouldered his backpack and stood up, shooting her a questioning look. She shook her head as he retrieved his rifle and headed in her direction.

“Let’s hit one more place,” he said.

“Lead the way.”

They fell smoothly into step, with her taking the left and Hunter on the right so he could easily shoulder his weapon, and for a moment it was like she’d always been here, always been with him.

It was tempting to pretend that was exactly what happened, that she hadn’t spent months scrounging for food and barricading herself in abandoned buildings at night, listening for _them_ and praying the doors would hold so she could get a little sleep. The day she hit Denver, only a couple of hours from the other Rivers End—the wrong one, it’d turned out—she’d even let herself believe she was almost over, that she was nearly home.

It’d taken her a day and a half to skirt around the edges of the sprawling city, her impatience pushing her to move faster than usual, putting speed ahead of caution.

That had been her first mistake.

Her second had been to hurry into Rivers End after the sun had begun its afternoon descent. The days were slowly getting longer, but the wind that swept down from the Rockies still had a frosty edge to it.

The entire place was barely larger than a subdivision, with a downtown strip that might have been quaint once before it’d half-burned down, but the houses around her all looked eerily similar, making it hard to get her bearings. She’d spent the agonizingly short time before the sun set searching for black SUVs, and any mildly fortified building in a four-block span before she’d realized the sun was almost gone.

The place she’d chosen to hole up in that night was more of a last minute necessity than a carefully thought out position and, though it made her nervous, she was also so sure she’d made it. Lance and the others would keep the area clear of _them_ , that she knew. After she’d barricaded her door, she’d fallen asleep almost immediately.

It was the shuffling that woke her.

She’d sat straight up, her heart pounding, and tried to count how many were in the building. When she reached five, she stopped counting and stood, looking around for a secondary exit. What she’d failed to notice at dusk stood out starkly in the moonlight: the bars on the windows.

The shuffling feet had stopped just outside her door, and it was the only way out.

Bobbi barely remembered how she’d managed it, just that it’d been a blur of arms and legs and rolling heads. After she’d killed the first one she’d realized they were all wearing tac gear with white logos and then she’d forced herself to stop noticing anything at all.

It wasn’t until she was the only one left standing that she realized she was crying, her tears almost blinding her and her chest heaving. She'd spent the rest of the night huddled in the corner of a different room, waiting for sunrise so she could confirm her worst fears. That Hunter hadn’t made it.

It had been the longest night of her life.

The morning came quickly, and Bobbi had stumbled into the hall, her throat sore and her eyes like sandpaper, to see who she’d killed. Who she’d lost.

The first head belonged to a stranger, and the second. By the third, she’d started looking at the bodies too, until it’d finally clicked that she was looking at what had been the town’s police force. She’d staggered away to dry heave, relieved and sick all at once.

It’d taken almost a week for her to gather the courage to regroup and start off toward the second Rivers End, clinging to her last, shattered thread of hope like a lifeline.

Bobbi’s foot caught on an uneven bit of concrete and she stumbled before she could catch herself. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the here and now, on the warm press of Hunter’s shoulder next to her, instead of memories of dark rooms and dried blood on the soles of her shoes.

“Bob,” Hunter said quietly.

“Later,” she said, her voice hitching. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears and it took more effort than she expected to push the memories back into the deep well they’d come from.

He nodded and took the next corner, stopping in front of a warehouse. The bottom of one of the bay doors was crumpled, leaving a gap between the metal and the floor large enough for a human, or something human-shaped, to get inside.

Hunter took off the backpack and pulled out what that looked like a flash-bang, rolling it under the door. A second later, a sustained, bright light was streaming out of the gap and he was smirking up at her before rolling under the door with his rifle. A familiar, welcome amusement welled up inside of her, pushing aside the shadows and letting her focus on the task at hand. She slid under the doors and popped up on the other side, machetes at the ready, only to find Hunter poking at the spoiled remains of the contents a walk-in freezer with the toe of his boot. The smell alone pretty much guaranteed no one living was staying here.

Hunter turned to look at her, shouldering his rifle. “Looks like it was human scavengers, not the other kind.” The tension in Bobbi’s shoulders started to unwind just as movement overhead caught her eye.

There was a second floor.

She opened her mouth to warn him, but one of _them,_ barefoot and wearing a tattered Hawaiian shirt, had already leaped over the railing and was hurtling down directly towards him. She was too far away to stop it, even as she drew her arm back and screamed Lance’s name.

Hunter didn’t hesitate, dropping to the floor and rolling to the side just as the thing landed and Bobbi let a machete fly. Hunter shot it a moment later, still lying prone on the floor before scrambling to his feet and aiming his rifle up at the second floor. Bobbi could barely breathe, barely think, as she moved toward the immobile figure. Yanking her machete out of its torso, she swiftly took of its head while the swirl of Hunter’s emotions in her chest exploded, running through surprise, fear, anger, worry and then anger again as Bobbi stared down at the thing that’d tried to take him away from her.

Her hands tightened on her machetes until her arms trembled, and it took her a moment to realize Hunter was saying her name.

“Yeah?” she croaked.

“Not seeing any more, but we’ll mark this down as a possible hideyhole and bring back a team, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Bob.” His gentle touch sent swirls of sky blue across the back of her hand and her knees almost bucked in relief. “Time to head home.”

***

Hunter was quiet during the return trip to the Lighthouse, but Bobbi could feel the coil of his emotions growing tighter all the way through the quick debrief. By the time they made it back to their room the spot behind her heart was aching, but it was the love leaking through the frustration that brought tears to her eyes.

Irritated with herself, Bobbi shook her head and mechanically began to remove her tac gear, toeing off her boots just inside the door and padding toward the bathroom in stocking feet.

“Bob,” Hunter said quietly. She turned to look at him. “Can’t keep it in much longer, love. I can feel it.”

She opened her mouth, wanting to argue, and then her shoulders slumped. Before, maybe she could have gotten away with some half-truth and waved away the rest, but she didn’t have that luxury anymore. There was no hiding from him. “Let me just…” she gestured toward the shower, feeling grimy even though they hadn’t been out long.

Hunter nodded and yanked his shirt over his head. “Leave me some hot water.”

Bobbi was washing her hair when he pushed the curtain aside and joined her, crowding her up against the wall so he could tip his head back under the spray. The terror of losing him had faded to a thrum of anxiety that buzzed under her fingertips as she painted swirls of mauve and gold across his chest.

Wrapping his arms around her, he maneuvered them so she was under the spray, her forehead resting against his shoulder while his strong hands combed through her hair, rinsing away the last of the shampoo. Bobbi kept her eyes closed as he followed up with the conditioner, her face pressed against his throat and the sound of the water masking her harsh, uneven breaths.

Even when they were finished, she couldn’t bear to let go of him, and Hunter just dried them both off with a towel, squeezing the water out of the ends off Bobbi’s hair before scrubbing at his own like it was the most natural thing in the world. His neck was a deep blue and his chest was almost entirely purple by the time he was finished, Bobbi’s hand mapping every detail. Her fingertips were painted a dusky pink, but when Hunter caught her hand and kissed it, gold quickly overtook them.

“Come on,” he murmured against her temple, directed her back into their room. It’d felt like the height of luxury when she’d first arrived, even with the utilitarian furniture, and while she might wish it wasn’t in an underground bunker, at least it was hers.

Theirs.

She let go of him long enough to sink down onto the bed, burrowing her head into the pillow and breathing in the familiar scent of Hunter, then let out a startled noise as he stretched out on top of her, aligning their limbs and nuzzling the back of her head. “Lance,” she protested halfheartedly.

He nipped at the nape of her neck and she squeaked, then relaxed as his hands slid down her forearms and he began to press kisses down her spine. “Barbara,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled.

“Seeing how many colors I can get you to turn.” Bobbi closed her eyes, her lips involuntarily turning up as he kissed a line across her shoulder. He pressed his pelvis against her ass and she could feel him growing hard, but the pace of his mouth and hand remained slow and steady like they had all the time in the world.

“How many?” she whispered as the tension in her upper back slowly unknotted.

“You first.”

Bobbi wrinkled her nose and buried her face even deeper into the pillow. “Hunter.”

She felt his teeth on her bicep next, the pressure of his bite almost soothing it was so gentle. “Get it out, love.” He kissed the spot he’d just bitten. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

The way he said it, the simple acknowledgment that there was no longer just her, alone, took her breath away, and it was another minute before she could speak again. “After we left SHIELD, I thought we’d finally have time to figure things out. Decide who were together.”

Hunter hummed against her skin, his hands gliding down her sides while he nipped at her ear. “eleven so far,” he murmured, licking a stripe down her neck. “No, twelve.”  

“I wanted things to be different,” she whispered. “But now…it’s like it never ends. We’ll always have something to fight, something to stop…” Bobbi’s breath hitched, and she tasted salt as a tear ran down her cheek. “Even when it’s wearing the face of someone who didn’t deserve that kind of pain.”

“Fourteen,” Hunter rumbled her ear.

“Don’t you dare…don't leave.” The knot of worry in her chest loosened and Hunter slid off her, tugging her arm until she rolled onto her side, blinking back tears.

“Never,” he said, pulling her close. She tangled their legs together as he captured her mouth in a kiss and she curled against his chest, wanting to sink into him. His thumb brushed over her cheek and Bobbi sighed against his mouth. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before you get rid of me.”

Bobbi let out a huff and pulled back, watching his lips fade from crimson to a pale rose. “Even then.”

His grin was even brighter than the swirl of gold across his cheek. “Even then,” he conceded. He pressed a palm against her back, just behind her heart. “I’ll be right here.” 


	4. The Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *RATING CHANGE* It's gone up to E for sexual content. 
> 
> I also added a couple of tags. No gore or zombies in this one.

Bobbi reached absently for the silverware, belatedly realizing the person next to her was staring, wide-eyed, at her palm. Probably because it was still pale blue. Sighing, Bobbi attempted to smile even though all she really wanted to do was eat enough food to tide her over, snag Hunter, and hunker down in their room until morning. Well, what passed for ‘morning’ in a place with artificial light and no windows. Living underground with half the population of what had been a town, after months of near-solitude, was seriously trying her patience.

“Hey,” Bobbi said, grabbing a handful of utensils.

The person leaned in, and it took everything Bobbi had not to step out of reach. While she’d accepted her need to spend a ridiculous amount of time touching Hunter, other people weren’t nearly as appealing. “I know someone who can help,” they whispered.  

Pausing, Bobbi turned to face them. Most of the time, people reacted to the colors swirling across her skin by demanding to see more, not with cryptic messages. The person next to her was wearing long sleeves, threadbare gloves, and had a scarf wound haphazardly around their neck up to their chin. Every movement they made was jittery, and they nearly dropped a sachet of what looked like tea before it disappeared into a pocket. “Help with what?” Bobbi said.

One gloved hand gestured at Bobbi’s palm. “You know,” they hissed, their voice low. “That.”

“The bond?” Bobbi found herself curling her fingers over the fading evidence of Hunter’s last touch. The spot in her chest that was him pulsed faintly like he was trying to decide whether or not to be worried. She took a breath, centering herself, and shook her head as Hunter appeared in her line of sight. “We’re doing just fine, thanks.” She peered closer at the person, curiosity getting the better of her. “Are you?”

The person shrank away, clutching the scarf around their neck, and their eyes got even wider. “I have to go.” They scurried away before Bobbi could ask any more questions and she watched them take a seat at a table across the mess hall as far from everyone else as possible.

Hunter made his way to her side, juggling two plates of food and wearing a frown. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know.” Bobbi shrugged, taking one of the plates and making a face. “Meatloaf again?”

“I got you an extra scoop of mushy green stuff to make up for it.”

Bobbi laughed as they headed to a nearby table. “My hero.” On impulse, she leaned in and brushed a kiss across his cheek, watching a pale purple bloom in its wake. Hunter lifted an eyebrow, surprised. It wasn’t often that they invited questions about their bond by showing it off in public, but she had a sudden urge to mark him so everyone knew he was hers. The contented feeling curling around her heart melted away the rest of her unease.

He settled onto the bench next to her and set down his plate before curling an arm around her waist and tugging her close, his hand sneaking up under the hem of her shirt. “Wait until you hear what I’ve got back in the room.”

“Tequila?”

Hunter grinned. “Someone’s been snooping.”

“You always hide things in your boots.”

“I hide the things I don’t mind you finding in my boots.”

Bobbi narrowed her eyes. “What else are you hiding?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.” Bobbi let her lower lip sneak out, and for a minute, she thought Hunter was about to cave.

He leaned in, his eyes softening, and nuzzled the spot behind her ear. “As if I’m telling you where the chocolate stash is,” he murmured.

“You bastard.”

“You love it.” He straightened up again and shoveled a bite of meatloaf into his mouth, looking smug, even though half his face was mottled mauve and gold. Bobbi opened her mouth, about to retort, when someone screamed. She didn’t even realize she was standing until Hunter bumped his shoulder against hers, an ICER in his hand. “Where?”

She nodded across the half-empty mess hall, where someone was slumped over a table, motionless— the same person she’d been talking to earlier. Bobbi felt the blood drain from her face. She grasped Hunter’s wrist as he started in that direction. “I’ll get Jemma, don’t let anyone throw away the food.”

“What?” Hunter’s brow furrowed, but Bobbi didn’t have time to explain. The last thing she saw was his worried face as she bolted out of the hall.

***

The swirls of blue across Jemma’s throat were starting to fade as she checked the eyes of the unconscious girl on the table, though Fitz’s mouth was still tinged a bright pink. “You saw her ingest something suspicious?” Jemma asked.

Bobbi suppressed a smile and shifted her eyes to the table. In the bright lab lighting, and without her scarf, the girl looked much frailer. Her cheeks were sunken, and her skin had a grey tinge to it. Biting her lip, Bobbi avoided looking over at Hunter. “Not exactly, she just…she mentioned helping me, and she dropped something. I thought it was tea.”

“Help you what?” Hunter wrinkled his nose. “Collect a couple of forks?”

“Um, I think she meant, like, help with the…the soulmate bond.” The words felt silly tripping off Bobbi’s tongue, even when she was confronted with evidence of it every waking moment.

“What the hell does that mean?” Hunter asked.

“Oh no,” Jemma breathed. “I thought she looked familiar. Fitz, can you-”

“Got it,” Fitz said, frowning at the tablet in his hands. “Name’s Lacey. She bonded with a Parker Hollis. It was a weak one, from the looks of it, developed about six months ago. They reported some brief, pale color flares and no shared emotions. Declined any further testing. Nothing since then.” He glanced at Lacey. “Looks like things weren’t going well.”

“She tried to break it,” Bobbi blurted out, realization dawning. “Is that even possible?” She felt more than saw Hunter’s reaction to her question, the hurt lodging behind her heart in a solid, heavy mass while Hunter’s face went blank.

“We haven’t seen it happen,” Jemma said distractedly, leaning over to view the tablet in Fitz’s hands. He brushed her hair back away from her cheek, leaving a streak of purple in his wake. “But I can’t say it isn’t possible. We really just don’t know much about the whole process.”

The lump of hurt in her chest took on a tinge of anger, and Bobbi reached out, smoothing a hand down Hunter’s arm. He shifted away, and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Do you need anything else from us?”

“No, thank you. I’ll start with analyzing her drink,” Jemma said, drawing a blanket over Lacey. “She’s stable for now, and hopefully once I know what she took, I can counteract it.”

“She said she knew someone who could help,” Bobbi said. “I don’t think she did this on her own.”

Jemma sighed. “I was afraid of that. I’ll let Mack know.” She gave Bobbi a smile. “It’s nice to have you back.”

“It’s nice to be back,” Bobbi said, trying to put as much feeling as she could behind her words. The dull ache in her chest didn’t budge.

Hunter pushed himself away from the counter he was lounging against, his arms crossed. “Yeah, great. You know where to find us if you need anything.” He paused. “Well, where to find me anyways. Can’t speak for anyone else.” Spinning on his heel, he disappeared into the hall.

Jemma lifted her eyebrows. “Everything alright?”

Bobbi sighed. “It will be. Good luck.”

“You too.” Jemma gave her a sympathetic smile as the purple faded from her cheek.

Bobbi rubbed the tips of her fingers together, unused to seeing their normal color, and went to track down the one man who drove her crazy in all senses of the word.  

***

“Hunter,” Bobbi said, closing the door of the room behind her and bending down to take off her boots. She hadn’t been able to catch up with him in the hall, and she’d half expected to find their place empty, but here he was, pacing the length of the room with the bottle of tequila in his hand. She could feel his tension coiled in her chest, and she rubbed at her breastbone, trying to soothe it. “You said you were going to share,” she said lightly, taking a step into the room.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her, and the hurt in his eyes took her breath away. “Yeah, well, you didn’t seem interested in sharing.”

Tendrils of anger and pain lashed her ribs, and Bobbi winced. This kind of fight had been bad enough back before she could feel him, although at least this time he hadn’t packed up and left. Yet. “Hunter-” she began.

“You weren’t even going to tell me, were you? Just go on pretending everything was fine, and then sneak off and see if you could get yourself a nice little severance package. Even easier than a divorce, right?”

“Hunter,” Bobbi said, pressing a hand against her chest. It was getting harder to breathe. “No.”

“You forget I can feel you,” he snarled, putting his hand over his heart in the same place she was touching. “Could feel that bit of interest in figuring out whether you might not be stuck with me after all.”

“Lance,” Bobbi said, sitting down heavily on the bed. Her head ached and the knot in her chest felt like it was hammering against her ribs. “Stop, please.”

“What, so you can…Bob?” Spots were blooming in her vision, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear them. The room was beginning to tilt sideways. She heard footsteps, and strong hands grasped her arms. “Hey.” Hunter’s voice was much closer. “Bob, you with me?” Fingertips tipped her chin up, and his face swam in front of her eyes.

The heavy weight crushing the breath out of her lungs kept her from replying, but she managed a nod, struggling to inhale.

“Barbara.” Hunter’s voice had dropped to the soothing timbre he used when it was only the two of them, and things were quiet and still. “I need you to breathe for me, love. Can you hear me?”

She nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth. “Make it stop,” she managed to gasp. He pried her hand away from her chest and placed it on his, holding it firmly.

“I’m working on it,” he said, his voice that same soothing tone. She felt his chest rise and fall, and the knot inside hers slowly began to loosen. “That’s it, slowly now, in and out.”

She managed a jerky, stuttering inhale, before letting it out again, concentrating on the feel of Hunter under her hand. Slowly, after what felt like an excruciating amount of time, the spots began to fade, and the room came back into focus. Hunter was kneeling in front of her, one hand clasped over hers on his chest, while the other gripped her thigh. She still wasn’t getting quite enough air, but every breath she took was a little deeper, and the urgency to fill her lungs had ebbed. “How are you still upright?” she asked.

Hunter rubbed small circles on her leg, his eyes searching her face. “Think that might have mostly been you, love. Keep breathing for me.” He drew in a breath, his chest lifting, and let it out again, watching her closely.

“No,” Bobbi said after few more breaths. “I could feel you.”

Nodding, Hunter took another exaggerated breath and Bobbi played along one last time. “I can feel you too, Bob, you’re doing much better.”

Narrowing her eyes, she snatched her hand back, and Hunter sat back on his heels. “Of course I am, now that you’re actually listening instead of getting all worked up over nothing.”

The edges of Hunter’s mouth quirked up. “Over nothing, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, poking his chest with an emphatic finger. “Maybe the whole bond thing takes some getting used to, and this isn’t exactly an ideal living situation, but dammit, do you have any idea how much worse it was out there? Getting here, finding you, that was all I had! How many times do I have to tell you I’m not going anywhere?” It was getting hard to breathe again, even though all she was feeling from Hunter was affection and worry. Bobbi rubbed her breastbone, irritated. “Stop it.”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth before settling his hands back on her thighs, rubbing gently. Bobbi felt her breathing even out again, her gaze fixed on his mouth, as she inhaled and exhaled in time with the slow strokes of his palms from her knees to her hips and then down again. “Better?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t trying to figure out how to break it,” she said, determined not to have this stupid conversation more than once. “I just…I don’t know. It’s new.” She reached out and traced his cheekbone with her fingertip, leaving a streak of yellow in her wake. “I want to know more about it.”  

Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“Good.” Bobbi’s hand strayed down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt, watching his skin turn pink and purple. A strand of desire wound itself around her heart, kicking her pulse up a notch. She loved watching the play of colors across his skin, the undeniable evidence of just how connected they were. “Because you promised me chocolate.”

“Did I?” Hunter tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then traced the line of her lower lip, his fingertips coming away a deep blue. “And here I thought I told you I wasn’t going to share.”

Bobbi yanked on his shirt and Hunter tipped forward, bracing himself on her thighs. “Didn’t we just agree we’re sharing everything now?”

The smile on Hunter’s face grew. “Maybe I’m saving it for a special occasion.”

“I’ll show you special.” She tugged his shirt up and Hunter laughed. She’d missed that sound.

He let her pull him onto the bed with her, and any remaining tightness in Bobbi’s chest faded away as he stretched out on top of her. “Hey.” Hunter propped himself up on one elbow and slipped his hand up under the hem of her shirt, stroking her abdomen. “You know I’m not going anywhere either, right?”

Bobbi made an impatient noise as she finally got his t-shirt off and then slid her hands down his chest, leaving streaks of peach and gold. Her own personal sunrise, helping to keep _them_ at bay. “I know,” she said, her fingers finding his belt buckle.

He pushed her shirt up further while he bent to kiss her, finally giving in. Her hand curled around the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss. He groaned against her lips, his hand cupping her breast, and she sighed, feeling like they’d regained their equilibrium. Their relationship had always been volatile, swinging from lust to fury inside of ten seconds and sometimes tangling the two together, but that was before the world had ended.

Before they’d had this.

She could feel the desire building, both her own and his, feeding off each other as it suffused her limbs. Affection was there too, layered underneath, a deeper, richer pulse that wound around her heart and warmed her from the inside out. He was with her all the time now, but it still wasn’t enough. Hunter’s clever fingers already had the clasp of her bra undone, and she’d managed to unbuckle his belt, yanking on the button of his jeans while trying to keep him as close as physically possible.

“Lance,” she gasped, nipping at his earlobe. Her hands slid under his jeans, pushing them down, and he growled. She let go of him just long enough to take her shirt off before returning her attention to his throat, painting it with her tongue and lips. He had cherry red streaks now, mixed with teal edged in green, and Bobbi was sure her face was a mess of color. Hunter yanked the front of her jeans open and she wiggled out of them as quickly as she could while he palmed her breasts, leaving rose-colored handprints and making a noise of satisfaction before laving her nipples with his tongue.

His hips jerked as she reached down to find his cock, wrapping her hand around it and giving it a stroke. He lifted his head and she urged him up, seeking his lips so she could kiss him again while he kicked off his jeans. “Bob,” he panted against her mouth. He smoothed a hand along her hip and then reached down, closing his hand around the one she had on his cock.

She ran her foot up the back of his calf and bit her lip as he teased at her opening with the head of his cock, glancing down. “What is it?” she asked, trailing her fingers across his shoulders.

“Kind of a coppery red,” he said sounding pleased. “I like this one.” He dragged the tip of his dick up to her clit and back down again, his eyes following along.  

Bobbi wiggled impatiently. “Babe.”

He looked up at her, grinning, and positioned himself just right before stretching out on top of her while his cock slowly sank into her. Bobbi let out a groan as he finally slid home. “Better?” he rumbled. A tendril of love meandered through her chest, and tears pricked her eyes as she let them flutter shut.

“Yes,” she managed.

He began to move, his hands gliding over her skin and leaving a riot of color in their wake as she clutched him, burying her head against his shoulder. The jumble of need and pleasure and affection inside her seemed to meld into one, until she couldn’t tease apart which feelings were hers and which were Hunter’s. She couldn’t imagine not having these pieces of him wrapped around her heart.

She held him tighter, her fingertip digging into his skin, and he sped up his strokes, thrusting deeper and gasping her name. Her climax almost took her by surprise, it came on so suddenly, and she shuddered as it washed through her, leaving contentment in its wake. Hunter’s hips lost their rhythm and she traced the knobs of his spine as he thrust a few more times before tumbling over the edge after her, muffling a shout against her throat.

His entire body relaxed, a soothing weight draped on top of her, letting her know she wasn’t alone. She’d never been alone. Hunter kissed her ear. “Yeah, alright, I’ll share,” he mumbled, although he didn’t move. Bobbi let out a breathless laugh.

The world as they knew it might have ended, but she had everything she needed right here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's to my favorite beta and awesome friend, Sunalso! 
> 
> You help make writing my happy place, and I will always be grateful for your friendship. You're the best!


	5. Safehouse

“Hey,” Bobbi said, leaning against the metal shelving rack Jemma was rummaging through. “Need any help?”

Jemma scowled at her. “Fitz sent you, didn’t he?”

Bobbi crossed her arms and tried to look innocent as the gold on her palm faded. Hunter was lurking with Fitz just outside the storage room, and the low hum of his contentment behind her heart was coupled with an alertness that let her know he was keeping tabs on her, too. It should have been annoying, but she was starting to find the whole soulmate connection thing more soothing than invasive. She might not know exactly what he was thinking all the time, but it sure as hell had made most of their usual arguments obsolete. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d fought about something more serious than who’d used up all the toothpaste.

“Not exactly,” Bobbi hedged. “He’s just…worried.”

Rubbing at a spot over her heart with one hand, Jemma made a face. “I know. He’s been nothing but worried. Constantly.” She sighed and smoothed her sweater over the roundness of her belly. “It was just…I wanted us to be happy.” Jemma’s voice faltered. “Not wondering about things like whether the baby will ever be able to play outside or go to school or watch the stars without listening for shuffling feet. A baby should be a happy thing, shouldn’t it?”

Bobbi wasn’t sure what to say. The world had changed, they couldn’t ignore that, no matter how reassuring she wanted to be. Jemma looked up, her eyes watery, before dashing a hand across her face and turning back to the shelves, shoving things aside with more force than necessary. “Can I help you find something?” Bobbi asked.

Jemma shook her head. “I’m not even sure if there are any walnuts left down here, I just…I know this isn’t an ideal situation in which to raise a child but if there is one thing I’m sure of it’s that it will be loved, utterly and completely.” She looked over at Bobbi again, her expression pleading. “And we won’t be down here forever, don’t you think?”

Poking through a few cans on a neighboring shelf, Bobbi shook her head. “I don’t know, Jemma. Not about the love part, that’s a given.” She shot her friend what was hopefully a reassuring smile. “But the rest of it…we’re safe down here, and even if there hasn’t been a sighting in a while it doesn’t mean they’re not still out there.”

“People are talking about going to find their families,” Jemma said quietly. “A few have already gone back to living up above.”

“We can’t make people stay.”

“Do you ever think about it?” Jemma said, staring at the half-empty shelves of non-perishables. “Leaving and starting over?”

The last time Bobbi had tried starting over, she’d ended up in Rio. Alone. A bubble of panic rose in her throat, but the weight of Hunter’s concern wending through her chest helped her push it back down. They were safe. The bond pulsed in time with her heart, assuring her that everything was alright, that she’d found her way home.

In more ways than she’d expected.

“Not really,” Bobbi said. Except…she knew, logically, that Jemma’s question hadn’t come out of the blue. People were leaving, braving the world so they could wake up with the sun and sleep under the stars. Those things had gotten so tangled up with Bobbi’s survival on her journey here it had been a long time before she could admit she missed them.

Bobbi’s hand knocked against a jar labeled ‘almonds’ and she shoved a few aside before finding the jar Jemma had been looking for. Triumphantly, Bobbi snagged the walnuts and turned, presenting them to Jemma. “Found some.”   

Jemma gasped and took them with a bright smile. “Perfect!”

“What are they for?”

“A reminder,” Jemma said, her smile softening. “That happiness comes in all shapes and sizes.” She lifted the jar. “Including sandwiches. Now, I’m off to go track down some basil.” She put a hand on Bobbi’s arm. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Bobbi said. She followed Jemma out of the storage room and watched her march down the hall in the direction of the kitchens.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind and, even without the bond, Bobbi was sure she would have been soothed by Hunter’s presence. He propped his chin on her shoulder and joined her in watching Jemma go. Fitz stepped up next to them, his expression anxious. “Everything okay?” Hunter asked.

Bobbi nodded. “She’s just working on something for Fitz.”

“For me?” Fitz asked bewildered. “But she’s supposed to be resting.”

“She’ll be fine,” Bobbi said, feeling a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. Hunter nuzzled against her neck, which meant her skin was again a riot of color and everything was as it should be. “She’s pregnant, not made of glass. And she’s not the first person to give birth down here.”

Fitz put his hands on his hips. “I know that,” he said. “But still…” he trailed off as Jemma disappeared through a door down the corridor. “They all had Jemma to get them through it.” He sighed. “Thanks for checking on her.”

“Sure,” Bobbi said. “Let me know if we can help with anything else.” She linked her fingers with Hunter’s, watching pale violet bloom across his hand while her skin turned a spring green.

“Actually,” Fitz said, and then hesitated, turning towards them.

Hunter picked up his head, revealing a mouth tinged with pale yellow, the edges turning blue. “What?”

Fitz’s eyes flicked down the corridor again and he lowered his voice. “There are a few things we’re low on that Jemma’s been wanting to replenish, just in case, you know?” His brow furrowed. “I know it’s a lot to ask but-”

“We’ll do it,” Hunter interrupted. Bobbi squeezed his hand in silent support. Even if she hadn’t felt the swell of pride and love in her chest that told her just how much he wanted to help, she would have been in agreement.

“Thank you,” Fitz said, sounding relieved. “I’ll make you a list.” He frowned. “You know we haven’t got enough gas for any of the vehicles, right?”

Bobbi wrinkled her nose. “The noise attracts _them_ anyway. We can walk.”

“The next hospital we haven’t picked clean is over fifty miles away,” Fitz said.

“Jemma’s not due for another few weeks. We have time.”

“If everything goes according to plan. What if something happens?” Fitz was starting to look worried again.

Hunter straightened up, his eyes alight and a streak of pink across his chin. “I have an idea.”

***

“You’re kidding,” Bobbi said.

“Would I kid about this?” Hunter sounded entirely too cheerful as they approached the barn down the road from the Lighthouse.

The sun was just over the horizon, painting everything in gold and pinks like Bobbi’s thighs had been this morning when she’d woken with Hunter’s head between her legs. Her fingertips had left lines of scarlet across his shoulders and dots of plum on his temples and it’d put her in an excellent mood. Which, now that she thought about it, might have been the plan.

“Horses?” Bobbi said doubtfully.

“You know how to ride, I’ve seen you.”

“I prefer the metal kind that don’t have minds of their own.”

“Ah, but you haven’t seen the best part,” Hunter said.

“Is it a motorcycle?” Bobbi asked hopefully.

Hunter rolled his eyes and pulled open the door, ushering her inside. Bobbi paused to let her eyes adjust as Hunter greeted someone she vaguely recognized and Bobbi took stock of the barn. The stalls were mostly empty, and a couple of horses were already saddled and ready for them. She should be surprised at how he’d managed to arrange this without her catching on, but mostly she was envious of his ability to adapt so easily. The entire world had fallen apart, and while she’d been fighting to stay alive, he’d been busy rebuilding it.

She’d be more annoyed if he hadn’t made it so clear he wanted her to share it.

“Ready?” Hunter said, stroking the nose of one of the horses before tucking their things into the saddlebags. The woman he’d been talking to gave them a wave and headed toward the back of the barn.

Bobbi watched him whisper something to the horse and then grin at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and let out a sigh. “As I’ll ever be.”

Hunter held out a hand, his palm covered in fading pale blue, and Bobbi took it, letting him tug her closer. He gave her a kiss, though he seemed distracted, and when something settled on her head, she opened her eyes, startled. “Perfect.” He looked entirely too delighted with himself.

“Lance,” she said. He winked and pulled on his own cowboy hat while Bobbi reached up to tug on the brim of hers. It was light where his was dark, and she hadn’t seen that mischievous spark in his eyes for a very long time. She missed it. She missed a lot of things that hiding underground forever wasn’t going to give them. “You look ridiculous.”

“You said you loved this hat.”

“I said that one time, and it was under very specific circumstances!”

“I’d be happy to recreate them,” he said cheerfully. A tendril of lust, tempered by love, wound around her heart and she rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “Now, up you get.”

Bobbi managed to get on her horse with a minimum of fuss, settling into the saddle. It’d been a long time since she’d ridden, but Hunter was right, it wasn’t as though she was entirely unfamiliar with horses, and it would make the trip a hell of a lot faster.

“Fine, maybe this isn’t the worst idea,” she grumbled as they headed out into the morning sunshine.

“I have been known to come up with a few of those,” Hunter said. His horse skittered sideways before correcting course, and Bobbie’s horse picked up its pace, apparently eager to get started. “This is going to be fun.”

“One howdy and we’re turning around.”

“But you could-”

“No.”

“What if I-”

“No.”

Hunter’s smile just got wider, and he tipped his head back, closing his eyes against the sunlight. “Nice to be out of there for a bit, isn’t it?”

Bobbi watched the purple on his mouth fade to almost nothing, the color richer that it usually looked underground, and felt something loosen in her chest like it was making room for the cautious excitement welling up inside her. “It is.” Sometimes she wondered how they all fit, the wealth of emotions she and Hunter were toting around. Even more remarkable was how they fit together so damn well.

They hadn’t gotten around to discussing their future, but there was no ignoring the fact that they were closer than they’d ever been, even before their marriage had fallen apart. She wondered if they just had to start wearing their rings again or if Mack would insist on them filling out paperwork that would go absolutely nowhere.

For the first time in a long time, she thought the future might not be so bad after all.

***

“Hunter.” Bobbi was watching the sun slowly sink toward the horizon, trying to gauge how much time they had left.

“I know,” he said. “There’s a place not far from here.” She felt his confidence surge in her chest, and it soothed her more than words ever could. Trusting him was the one thing she’d always been sure of, and she wasn’t about to start questioning it now.

They’d left Rivers End behind hours ago, passing through other, smaller towns and wide spots in the road hosting empty strip malls with parking lots overgrown with weeds, vestiges of the time before _them_. They’d mostly followed the highway, keeping it in sight as they rode toward the hospital Fitz thought was their best bet.

The stupid hat had been a godsend. It’d been months since Bobbi had spent this much time topside and the sun was brighter than she remembered. Warmer, too. The grass and weeds underfoot were the bright green of spring, and tall enough to brush the soles of her boots.

They hadn’t seen a soul since they’d left, and while the solitude was nice after being crammed into a base full of strangers, it was also eerie. There was a cluster of buildings on the horizon, but the trappings of civilization—lights, noise, traffic—were all missing. The virus had spread so quickly there’d barely been time to escape, and the empty human shells it’d left behind had done even more damage.

There were so many pieces left to pick up, Bobbi wondered where they would even begin.

It wasn’t long before they crested a hill and their horses began to move faster, heading for a small farmhouse. It was nestled among a copse of trees but even with those, Bobbi could see the advantages of choosing it. The windows were shadowed by overhangs and the walls looked sturdy. No neighboring buildings overlooked it, and there was a clear line of sight in every direction. There was even, she realized as they got closer, a small paddock in the back for the horses.

“It’s a safehouse,” Bobbi breathed.

Hunter gave an absent nod. “We set up a string of them a while ago when we weren’t sure what was coming next. Figured the city was the best place to make a stand if we had to.” Hunter squinted as they made their way around to the back, eyeing the fence. Bobbi could see the fresh cuts on the ends of the posts. “That’s new, though.”

Bobbi’s horse came to a halt and she watched the house, listening intently, as Hunter dismounted. The only thing she could hear was distant birdsong and the leaves rustling overhead. “You never mentioned them,” she said.

Hunter lifted one shoulder. “By the time you got here, we’d scrapped the idea of going anywhere.”

Bobbi swung off her horse and tried not to wince as her legs protested. “Wish I’d known they were here when I was looking for you guys.”

“Me too.” A muscle in Hunter’s jaw twitched and he looked away, but Bobbi could feel his regret and anger swirling in her chest.

“Hey,” she managed to get her legs working and stepped towards him, sliding her thumb over her cheek to watch it turn bronze. “Stop. It’s not your fault.”

“Still hate it.”

“I know,” Bobbi said softly, resting her forehead against his. “But we can’t change the past.” She gave him a swift kiss. “Let’s concentrate on where we’re heading.” She stepped back and smiled. “And since the horses were your idea, you can deal with them.”

Hunter snorted, but she could feel a tendril of love wrap around her heart as his anger eased. “Yeah, alright.” He glanced toward the horizon as the wind picked up. “Maybe we should get a fire going? Feels like the temperature’s going to drop.”

“On it.” Bobbi retrieved a machete from her saddlebags and gave her horse a fond pat before heading for the back door of the farmhouse. She found the key on top of the doorframe and let herself in. leaving Hunter grumbling at the horses about how much work they were.  

It was dark inside and smelled musty, but that didn’t mean much in this new world. _They_ loved dark and musty. Bobbi left her hat on the kitchen table and made a slow circuit of the downstairs, keeping her footfalls as light as possible. The windows were all fitted with sturdy shutters that were locked up tight from the inside, and the closets only contained stockpiled supplies. Upstairs was equally uneventful, and it wasn’t long before Bobbi was kneeling in front of the fireplace in the small living room waiting for the kindling to catch.

“Well,” Hunter said, coming into the room and collapsing on the couch with a wince. He took off his hat and dropped it on the table beside him, running a hand through his hair. “I have good news and bad news. Good news is the basement’s clear and there’s a generator. Bad news is there’s no gas, which means no running water or electricity.” He grimaced. “And this sofa is bloody uncomfortable.”

“We’ve had worse.”

“True, though I’m not sure I’ve smelled worse.”

Bobbi laughed and stood, crossing the room to collapse beside him. “Luckily, I can’t smell you over the horse.”

Hunter draped his arm across her shoulders as they watched the fire grow, and Bobbi stifled a yawn behind one hand, leaning against him. “This was a lot more romantic in theory,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping.  

Bobbi patted his knee. “It’s a mission, babe, not a honeymoon.”

Hunter’s eyebrows shot up, and he suddenly looked a lot less sleepy. “I was thinking more along the lines of a holiday. There a reason you’re bringing up honeymoons?”

Bobbi poked his side with an elbow and buried her face against his shoulder even though she knew he could feel her embarrassment. “No.”

“Bob,” Hunter said, sounding amused. He nudged her upright and she started to lean away from him but he just followed until they were tangled together in a heap on the couch, with Bobbi pinned under him and still avoiding his eyes.

“What?”

“Is there something you want to ask me?” He nuzzled the underside of her jaw and gently bit her neck while she stared up at the ceiling, fighting a smile.

“No?”

“You don’t sound so sure,” he hummed in her ear and Bobbi wiggled until they were in a more comfortable position. Hunter propped his chin on one hand and gazed down at her, his eyes soft. In the dim light, it was hard to see the colors swirling across his face, and Bobbi found herself missing the bright sunlight.

“Would you like to?” she asked.

“Go on a honeymoon?” The corner of his mouth twitched, and she narrowed her eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He bent down to brush a kiss across her lips and affection pooled behind Bobbi’s heart, tempered by amusement. “Just wanted to hear it.”

 She hooked her arms around his neck and watched the firelight play on his cheekbone, highlighting the berry-pink smeared across it. “Do you want to get married again?”

“Do you?”

Biting her lip, Bobbi hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, concentrating on the anticipation thrumming in her chest. “Yes.”

The smile he gave her nearly split his face in two. “Then yes.”

Happiness curled around her heart, so strong and bright it was hard to feel anything else. She reached up to cradle his face in her hands. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Hunter bent to kiss her again, long and slow, and Bobbi sighed against his mouth as his tongue slipped in her mouth and his weight settled on top of her. “Even when you smell like horse,” he whispered, kissing a path up to her ear.

“That’s your fault.”

“It’s the hat’s fault.”

Bobbi laughed. “I appreciated it, though.”

Hunter picked up his head, looking smug. “I know.”   

***

“What else?” Bobbi asked, opening another drawer full of meds. This place must have been too dangerous to access, otherwise, it would have been picked clean. Hunter was leaning against the doorframe with Fitz’s list and a backpack, carefully stowing away the things she handed him and keeping an eye on the hallway.

Hunter frowned at the paper in his hand. “Last thing’s IV Magnesium.”

Bobbi closed the drawer and headed for the cabinets in the back of the room, careful to assess every corner just in case. So far, they hadn’t had spotted any of _them_ and it was making her uneasy. She could feel the tension from Hunter winding through her too.

They’d made it to the edge of the city without any trouble, and even though the doors to the hospital were forced open, the place seemed empty. And surprisingly not picked clean. Bobbi opened a cabinet and grabbed a few bags, eyeing the rest of the supplies regretfully.

Later, she promised herself. Hunter wouldn’t mind another trip. It would give him an excuse to wear his hat again. A tiny bubble of amusement floated up from her ribcage, and she glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

“Just glad we came.”

Bobbi headed in his direction, her hands full, and he helped her stuff the rest of the supplies into the bulging backpack. “Me too,” she said quietly, brushing their hands together. Rose pink and turquoise slid across their skin, echoed by a calmness through her chest.

“There’s a lot more,” Hunter said, eyeing the room behind her.

“We should definitely come back. Soon.”

“I won’t argue with that.” Hunter grinned and slung the bag over his shoulder, leaving his hands free. He picked up the modified rifle Fitzsimmons had made and checked both ends of the hall before jerking his head in the opposite direction of the way they’d come in. Bobbi nodded and slipped out the door, following him.

Their footsteps were loud in the empty hallways, though Bobbi did her best to step lightly, and they passed room after empty room. Hunter stopped abruptly, his head swiveling towards a door marked stairs, and Bobbi drew out her machetes the moment his rifle came up.

“Smell that?” he murmured under his breath.

Bobbi wrinkled her nose. “This whole place reeks.”

“It’s worse here.” He tilted his head toward the stairwell. “This place have a basement?”

Bobbi glanced around, spotting a floor placard by the defunct elevators. “Looks like underground parking.”

Hunter edged toward the door to the stairs. “I’m going to take a peek.”

“Hunter,” Bobbi said, hating the helpless feeling rising inside her. He stopped, unhooking one of the UV grenades on the strap of his bag and wrapping a tendril of reassurance around her heart. She was not particularly reassured. “Lance.”

“We need to know what we’re up against if we’re coming back, Bob.”

She sighed and stepped up to one side of the door, tucking her machetes away and taking the grenade. “Fine. But only a peek.”

Hunter raised the rifle to his shoulder as she reached for the door handle, waiting for his nod. The moment his chin dipped, she flung the door open and tossed the grenade. A horrible stench hit her a second later, and she tried not to gag as she fumbled for her machetes.

Her eyes began to water, more from the smell that the sudden flash of light as the grenade went off, and Hunter only poked his head in before he kicked the door shut and backed into the hallway again. “Holy fuck,” he said, his face screwed up in a grimace. “Let’s go.”

They made to the end of the hall and found a back entrance, forcing open the door and stumbling out in the sunlight before Bobbi took a deep breath again, trying to clear the putrid smell out of her nostrils. Hunter slung the rifle over his shoulder and squinted up at the sky. “What was it?” Bobbi finally asked.

He turned around, and the pieces of him tucked behind her heart all began to thrum with hope and wonder and enough love to fill her chest. “ _Them_. But they were all dead.”

Bobbi frowned. “Someone killed them already?”

Hunter shook his head. “No, Bob, they were dead. As in, no longer in any condition to shamble anywhere. Looked like they just keeled over where they were standing.”

“What?” Bobbi asked, confused.

“Actually, properly dead,” Hunter said, grasping her arms, his eyes wide with excitement.

“How?”

“Starved maybe?” Hunter lifted one shoulder. “Virus ran its course? Whatever the fuck happened, do you know what this means?”

Bobbi shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. “You’re sure they were dead?”

“Yeah. I think…” He trailed off, sliding his thumb across her cheek. Bobbi blinked back tears she hadn’t even realized were falling “Bob, I think it’s over.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to those of you who encourage and read this verse, you're the best. <3
> 
> I'm on tumblr @robotgort


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